


The Fox and the Hound: Choices

by TK_DuVeraun



Series: SWTOR: Legacies AUs [2]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Original Plot, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-08 22:51:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12874749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TK_DuVeraun/pseuds/TK_DuVeraun
Summary: Fox was born to die. His scheduled sacrifice was set back when his older sister died before the ritual, leaving him time to live while his younger sister grew old enough to take over the family. When the Republic interrupts his preparations for the end, he has no choice except to ask some Mandalorians for help.Better that he had no options. Given the chance, he makes bad choices.---Soulmate AU ofThe Fox and the Hound. It is POV swapped and written with the supposition that you've read the original first.





	1. The Minstrel's Prayer

**Author's Note:**

> Please read [The Fox and the Hound](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11755608) first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with The Fox and the Hound, this was written with chapter titles borrowed from the titles of thematically appropriate songs.
> 
> [The Minstrel's Prayer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=scLtJwDNRJQ) by Cartel.

Fox removes his mask when lock on the door clicks closed behind the Hound. The air is still heavy with the Mandalorian’s presence and Fox could all but still feel her in the Force.  _ For a Blind, she certainly is… Striking _ . He rubs the indents on his cheekbones from the Sith mask and glances at his captain. “She’s going to turn us down.”

Ivan Mardh sinks into Fox’s chair and sighs as he stretches out his legs. “That was my impression, as well.”

Fox starts pacing across the office. His knee-high boots clack sharply against the wood floor every time he steps off of the thick rugs. “If I’d built a relationship with one of the clans before this-”

“You avoided them with good reason.” Mardh frowns and shakes his head. “You couldn’t have foreseen-”

He clutches his right bicep. Though Fox can’t see the soulmark through his robes, he’s long-since memorized every static line. Behind the snow-white tragedy mask that represents him are the bold lines of the Mandalorian insignia. “What’s my happiness against fifty-thousand lives, Ivan? There are millions of Mandalorians. It was irrational to try to avoid all of them.”

“And if Sybil thought you’d found your soulmate, she would have torn through the clans to find them. How many would have died if she’d started a war with Mandalore?” Ivan rubs his temples in an all-too familiar gesture. “We’ve been over this time and again. You said it yourself: the Force wants us to meet our matches.”

“I’ll have to go. Eklund’s not persuasive enough. What we gain for him being alien isn’t enough to overcome to their reticence in regard to Sybil.” Fox stops pacing and scrubs the back of his head. “What if they don’t agree?”

“Eklund will speak with his Ascendency contact and we’ll see what we can get from the nearest garrison. If you use your full abilities-”

Fox slashes out his right arm in negation. He says, “If I reveal myself, it will only redouble the Republic’s interest in Olkin II.”

“The record already shows that you’re governor here,” Ivan says. He pulls a datapad out of Fox’s desk and starts composing a message.

“But it doesn’t show that I  _ care _ . If I defend this world with only my life and a single squadron, they will know this place has significance.” Fox continues pacing.

“Then you had best be convincing,  _ my lord _ . This fear mongering is all academic if you get Hound and the others to agree.” Ivan looks up. “Where is your confidence?”

“Drowned in my fear.”

“Then go as you are. No partner of yours would suffer this cowardice.” Ivan waves at the door with the datapad. “Get changed and stop sounding like a pretentious wanker, otherwise we don’t have a chance of convincing them.”

\---

A jostling speeder is a poor place to meditate, but Fox tries, regardless.  _ Ivan is right. Mandalorians won’t respond to desperate pleas. _ By the time his speeder parks next to the Hound’s speeder bike, he has his anxieties stowed neatly away. His breath catches in his chest when Fox sees her out of her helmet, but he tamps that down, as well. _ That is the absolute last thing that needs to happen _ .

Fox steps out of his speeder and runs a hand over his hair. “Carina Meshurok? I’m Lieutenant Fox.”

“That’s great. You can go tell His  _ Lordship _ that we’re not interested.”

“Excuse me?”  _ Kriff _ , Fox thinks, even as he feigns surprise.  _ I’d thought she’d at least let me make the case to the warriors _ . 

“We’re not going to take the job.” She ties off her hair and throws the braid over her shoulder. Her tone is even and matter-of-fact.

Fox frowns at her and narrows his blue eyes. He quickly runs a few scenarios through his head and decides showing his honest emotions would be best… The fiery ones. “If you and your people leave, we  _ lose  _ the colony. This is civilians. Children.” 

“So they can surrender.” The Mandalorian shrugs, but there’s a little hesitation on her face and in the way she narrows her green eyes.

“They’re loyal to Lord Faximil. Even assuming the Republic is here for altruistic reasons, a rather wild assumption, the colonists will resist and it wouldn’t take much to push the Republic soldiers to reprisals.”

“We’re not going to work for Sa’alle.” Carina slashes her arm between them. Her voice is raised with emotion. “Do you really think we don’t know what she does?”

Fox fights the urge to grab at his soulmark. Instead, he clenches his jaw and shakes his head. “I can understand that, but Meshurok,  _ please _ . Faximil isn’t Sybil and these people need you.”

“And if her apprentice starts playing her game, I, personally, am in danger.” She seems to move subconsciously until she’s physically blocking the way into the Mandalorian camp.

“Faximil’s not her apprentice.” He runs a hand over his hair again and fights the rising bile in his stomach. “He's her  _ brother  _ and just as disgusted as you are. Ivan thinks she's going to look closer to home if she doesn't get what she wants from Jedi." Fox’s eyes close involuntarily as he fights to push the thought away.  _ Why Sybil? You saw what Linora became _ .

For her part, the Mandalorian flinches and takes breaths deep enough that her breastplate visibly expands. “ _ Fine _ . I'll present it to the others, but they may not be convinced.”

“Surely there's  _ something  _ we can do to convince them?” Fox paces a few steps before stopping to stare at her pleadingly.

“He stays in his little base. We command our own people-”

Fox shakes his head and interrupts before she can continue. “The first is fine, done, but Eklund needs control of any snipers. He's a Chiss and even when he explains his strategies, they don't make sense. You don’t have to trust Faximil or me, but Eklund knows what he’s doing.”

“As long as it's not the Sith, I can probably convince a few.” The Hound sighs and finally meets his eyes. “Do you even have the authority to make these deals?”

“You're underestimating how much we want to save Olkin II.”


	2. Real World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hound holds out her hand to Fox and he realizes he's well and truly kriffed.

“Please correct my ignorance, but I wasn’t aware signing a contract with a rather suspect Sith was a cause for celebration,” Fox says. He gestures to the quickly forming battle circle in the center of a ring of torches. He’s leaning against the temporary smithy and smirking at the Hound.  _ That went better than I expected. She’s a natural leader. _

“We had to cancel the rest of the hunt to handle your  _ emergency _ ,” Carina sends back with a roll of her eyes. Despite that, she’s grinning at him. She’d done the manka’s share of the talking and curated the questions, for the most part. Now, she’s looking between the pair sparring in the circle and him.

“I would think a Republic warship landing on world is an emergency by Mandalorian standards, too.” Fox doesn’t bother holding back his smirk.

“If not for you, we could’ve been off-world and halfway to our  _ yaime _ before they even knew we were here.”

“Point being, you’d still have to cancel the rest of the hunt.” He points to her as he says it. The torches cast flickering shadows across his face, but do nothing to hide his amusement. Though he knows the risk, Fox lets himself be emboldened by her clear teasing.

The Hound knocks his hand down. “You’re insufferable.”

“I’m competent and factually correct.”

“Alright, that’s enough of that.” The Mandalorian grabs Fox by the back of his chestpiece and hauls him towards the Circle. “I hope you can use that vibroblade.” She switches to  _ mando’a _ . “ _ Hey boys, let’s see if the Imp can hold his own. _ ”

The clanging of metal on metal is nearly deafening as the collected Mandalorians cheer in favor. Fox laughs and draws his vibroblade and fiddles with the controls until it glows to life on the practice setting. His opponent is tall and looks lanky even with his full  _ beskar _ . Sharp gears are splashed across his cuirass in bright purple paint, undoubtedly his clan’s sigil, though it’s not one Fox recognizes.

After his quick examination, Fox trades a few easy blows with the warrior. A few probing exchanges give Fox a rough idea of the man’s form. There are several ways to break his opponent’s guard, but Fox goes for the biggest show and switches into the modified Echani form he’s practiced for years. He grins fiercely when he hears the Hound’s surprised gasp of amusement.

Purple gears signals his forfeit after Fox drives him to the ground. He rips off his helmet and pants in the cool, night air. He holds his hand up for Fox’s help up and there’s a clear challenge in his eyes. The zabrak expects Fox to leave him on the ground. His lips curl up just a little when he’s pulled to his feet. “You’re better than I expected, Imp.”

Fox knows the zabrak isn’t talking about his martial abilities when he answers. “I’m the liaison for a reason.” 

“Don’t make his head any bigger, D’narr. Some of us have fought Echani before.” The Hound meets his eyes and seems as laser-focused as Fox as she draws her heavy vibrosword. She doesn’t need to look at it as she flicks it over to practice settings. The flash of something in her eyes is the only warning she gives before she leaps at him with an underhanded slash. 

They fight back and forth across the ring and while Fox knows the Mandalorians are cheering and shouting, he can’t hear anything over the pounding blood in his ears. After her comment, Fox doesn’t fight her with his Echani style. First, he slips back into his original style, but when she gets him on the defensive, he falls back onto a patchwork combination of techniques and forms. It feels more natural than any formal style, but under the ever-vigilant eyes of the Hierarchy, he can use it only rarely.

Thanks to the Hound’s ability to specialize in combat, she’s able to match him despite his cheating with the Force. After a few charged passes, they silently agree on a draw. They clasp hands in the center of the ring to raucous, somewhat drunken, cheers and then leave the ring, accepting heavy cups of  _ tihaar _ . The Mandalorian drinks deeply and throws her arm over Fox’s shoulders when he sputters and coughs. “Atta boy. We’ll make a proper warrior out of you, yet.”

“I don't see how my inability to drink this poison you call alcohol correlates to my capabilities as a fighter,” Fox says. He takes a deep breath to center his Force before chugging the rest of his cup and making a disgusted noise. 

“This is proper Mandalorian  _ tihaar. _ You should be flattered we served you some.”

“It tastes like you brewed it in someone's armor."

The Hound grins and it lights her face better than the torches. “Well, Clan D’narr did bring it and you never know with them.”

Fox can’t hold in his howl of laughter as he shakes his head. “You're an unrepentant barbarian, Hound.”

When they’re far from the center of the camp and the sound from the Battle Circle are muted cries in the night and the sharp claps of metal on metal are soft thunks, the Hound grabs Fox by the shoulder and spins him around to face her. Dim torchlight casts severe shadows on her face that make her look as wild as she is beautiful.

_ Oh, I am  _ royally  _ kriffed _ , Fox realizes. 

“A barbarian whose _ pleasure _ hunt you interrupted. I think beating the tar out of these Pubs will handle the latter, but I intend to take the former out of your hide.” She leaves him no time to respond before pulling his mouth hard against hers. 

Fox returns her fervor, nevermind his good sense wailing alarms in the back of his head. He grabs her braid in a tight fist and holds her face in his left hand. Eventually, he makes an internal compromise and pulls back enough just to gasp for breath and speak. “I'm flattered, make no mistake-"

Carina kisses him again. “Then why are you talking?”

“I have no intention of leaving the Empire.”

“Kriff, Fox, I'm asking for a kriff, not a proposal,” she says before pulling him in again. 

_ Can’t you  _ feel _ this _ ? Fox thinks even as nimbly works their gauntlets off. He doesn’t bother trying to hold back the animalistic rumble in his voice when he says, “You're Mandalorian; I think that was a fair assumption.”

“You need to stop thinking so much and put your energy into taking off your armor.”

“If you want to be taken on the ground, far be it from me to stop you.”

“First,  _ I _ will be taking  _ you _ and second, if you could shut up for five seconds, I'd let you into my tent.”

Fox says nothing to that. 

\---

“You couldn’t convince them?”

Fox jumps at the question. “Ivan!”

“Did I just  _ startle _ you?”

“Well, don’t sound the alarms. I was just a little preoccupied,” Fox says when he sees panic on the edges of Ivan’s expression. “And no, I convinced plenty.”

Ivan holds his hand over heart and takes a few steadying breaths. “Thank the Force. If it went well, why did it take you so long to come back?”

“I make bad decisions,” Fox replies pointedly.

“Can’t unring the bell, I suppose,” Ivan mutters. He sighs and nods to Fox’s right arm. “So it’s the Hound then?”

Fox sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Probably.”

“Probably? You didn’t check?”

“She had it covered. What was I supposed to do? Ask to see if I’m going to break her heart in a year? She wanted a kriff, nothing more.”

“Because if she is the one, she thinks you  _ aren’t _ .”

“I’m not drunk and I still can’t parse that.”

“ _ You’re _ a Forcer, but she doesn’t know that Lieutenant Fox is.  If you're a match, her mark moves, but if she 'knows' you're not Sensitive she further knows the mark isn't yours. And since Force use is anathema, she’s probably long-since resigned to marrying for something other than the Will of the Force.”

“You don’t have to say it so sarcastically.”

“Of course not, my lord.”

“Ivan…”

“See you at the meeting, my lord?”

  
  
  



	3. Let's Jump (Head Over Heels)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fox glimpses what _home_ could really mean.
> 
> _This is what real dreams are made of._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: [Let's Jump (Heal Over Heels)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lnS9XBobswo) \- You vs Yesterday
> 
> My friend who reads this first (he doesn't beta, he just fangirls at me) has a disturbingly similar taste in music to me, so if you listen to these and think I'm insane, there are TWO people with this bizarre taste.

Rain pounds against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the capitol building. Here, in his  _ home _ , in his place, Fox doesn’t wear the mask with his Sith robes. He wrenches himself away from the distant sight of the fields and steps up to the large, oval table where the mayor is seated with Ivan. “Apologies.”

“It was no inconvenience, my lord,” Mayor Cooper says with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

“What’s the status?”

“We’ve sanitized the capitol complex. You prepared us well. We’ve been able to disassemble all of the Force works on the grounds. The team is working on the medical complex now.”

Fox looks over at Ivan’s datapad and rubs his forehead. “What about the schools?”

“We’re coaching the teachers on what to say. I have a list of instructors you’ll need to…” Cooper glances at Ivan for help and wiggles his hand when the Imperial just stares back.

“Ah, the mental protection.”

“That’s not exactly a simple process…” Fox says. He rubs both temples.

“I know, but these are the people who know exactly who is Sensitive. We’ve already distributed what amulets we had here, but there are just so many people that need to know when it comes to the children.”

“Right, of course. Have some of them come here now.” Fox checks his chrono and tries to dismiss his irritability. “Five, I think, for now. What about the farms?”

“We’re only thirty-percent complete with the stripping.” The despair must show on Fox’s face because the mayor quickly follows with, “But we don’t expect the Pubs, er, that is, the Republic to look too closely at the farming complex.”

“We can’t count on that. Not until I know who these Jedi are.”

“Our people are slaughtering the beasts and drawing the ritual circles you designed to disguise the Force traces,” Cooper says gently.

“I came up with that?”

The mayor glances at Ivan before looking back at Fox. “Are you alright, my lord? Shall I call a doctor.”

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

Ivan clears his throat. “The Mandalorians are no fans of Lord Sa’alle. His lordship has been liaising with them directly and it is particularly taxing.”

_ Thank the Force for you, Ivan _ . “The gravity of our situation weighs heavily on me, Mayor. That these Jedi are masking their identity is almost as troubling as their presence here at all. We should have a partial video feed from the scouts by the meeting this evening.”

“Will I be attending this meeting?”

“It would be for the best. However, I have a… particular image I must maintain,” Fox says carefully. He watches the mayor’s face as he speaks. “Captain Mardh will lead the meeting on my behalf while I oversee.”

Cooper’s expression is thoughtful for a moment before he nods. “Yes, of course, my lord. I understand completely. Discretion is paramount here at  _ home _ . This may be the first incursion since my election, but you can rely on me.”

“Excellent. I’ll be in my office. Send the first instructor in as soon as you can.”

\---

“ _ This _ is your barracks?” The Hound whistles as they walk through the lobby and into the elevator. She’d loitered in the reception area of the capitol building for a full hour after her meeting with ‘Faximil.’ 

If not for Ivan all-but shoving him into his lieutenant’s uniform, Fox might have spent all night pouring over the sanitization details. Instead, here he is: bringing her up to the spare accommodation he uses when he’s hiding from the press. He rubs the knot of tension in the back of his neck and shrugs. “There are never many soldiers here and the locals are really appreciative of… us.” 

“I wasn’t suspicious until you said it  _ like that _ .” 

Fox doesn’t respond until they’re inside his room.  _ She may well be my soulmate, but there’s no need to blab in the open _ . “They don’t mind the soldiers, but the only one they really care about is Lord Faximil.”

“Do they just… not know who his sister is? He wears the Sa’alle marks on his mask. He’s not trying to hide it.” Her cheeks flush with emotion as she speaks. “I know there must be  _ some _ people who enjoy living under the heel of a Sith, but-”

“They’re all traitors, Meshurok,” Fox interrupts. He slashes his arm between them for emphasis. He’s tired and crumbling under the threat the Republic poses and he  _ knows _ the Sith are deplorable, but he can’t bear to hear  _ her _ rant about them, about  _ him, _ right now. “All of them. As far as the Empire is concerned, they should be put to death,  _ including _ the children.” 

When Carina just stares at him in horror, Fox walks past her into the living area and sits on his couch. “Faximil hid their crimes and gave them a home here.”

“How can  _ children _ be  _ traitors _ ?”

“Because the Empire is made of  _ insane _ , paranoid Sith who think that if you have enough ability with the Force to move a  _ hair _ a single, bloody centimeter, then you deserve to face Sith training or die. Which is in practice  _ just dying _ because they’re too weak to do anything but  _ farm _ and  _ write symphonies _ !”

“Are you saying… They’re all Forcers?” 

Fox sighs and rubs his temples. “Not all of them. Not even most. But he couldn’t just secret away the children. Who would care for them? He transplanted whole families here. That’s why it’s so far from the nearest garrison. He doesn’t want to risk discovery.”

She sits next to him with a soft thwump. “No wonder you’re all so loyal to him.”

“That secret is worth the lives of everyone on world, Hound.” Fox puts his face in his hands.  _ If I’m wrong about her… If she tells someone... _

Carina pats his back gently. First with a light, hesitant touch, and then soothing strokes down his spine. “The others don't need to know. Do the Jedi know? Is that why they're here?”

“I don't think so. They would have to bring more Jedi just to keep accidental Force use under control, let alone any resistance.” He takes in a shuddering breath and looks up into her face. “Maybe you should go back to the camp.”

“I'm where I should be.” She stands and pulls Fox to his feet. “You, Lieutenant, should let your Sith and your captains worry about that. I'll give you a back rub and we'll see how you feel. I don't have to be back at the camp until my meeting with the other captains in the morning.”

Fox stops her before she can pull him into his bedroom. He stares into her eyes.  _ Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me? What we’re going to lose? We shouldn’t do this. We can’t have this. _

When he speaks, his voice is soft and the words aren’t what he really wants to say. “Flawed as it is, I'm not going to leave the Empire.”

“I won't ask you to.”

\---

The lies don’t trouble Fox the way he thinks they should. He may well be hiding the most integral part of himself from his soulmate, but he doesn’t  _ care _ because mingling with the Mandalorians feels like home. He practically lives at Carina’s right hand, relaying her instructions to his men to ensure cohesion between the two groups. 

He respects his men; he trusts them with the secret of Olkin II and knows they’re good at their jobs, but he can’t drop his cold, if concerned, demeanor. He can’t afford to break the habit and risk everyone who relies on him being killed.

But with the Mandalorians… everything is different. He’s just another warrior, not the lynchpin holding everything together. He can afford to relax and show weakness and compassion. Not just that he can, they  _ want _ him to. They want to know he’s just a warrior like they are. They want to know he’s listening and understands their concerns. They drag him into the Battle Circle and insist on having their own medics treat his injuries - though those total only a sprained wrist and several gouges to his armor.

And then there’s the Hound. Carina. The person that surely has a white mask hidden under the brace on her upper arm. The woman he is absolutely smitten with, who gives him the only peaceful sleep of his life, who sits by his side and drinks the  _ tihaar _ her  _ vod _ keep handing him so he doesn’t have to refuse and explain that  _ No, it’s not too strong, I just find it disgusting _ .

He looks into her face as they sit beside the ford behind Olkin City proper. She looks relaxed, even knowing what’s at stake if the Republic makes any headway. After sending a scout back on his patrol, she meets his gaze. “For as worried as you Imperials were about the Jedi, he hasn’t shown himself.”

“We’ve killed or captured at least twenty-five percent of his forces. That he  _ hasn’t  _ shown himself worries me more, if I’m honest.” He rubs his cheek and his stubble is loud against the inside of his gauntlet.  _ I shouldn’t let her keep distracting me from shaving _ .

“What does Faximil think?”

The name freezes Fox’s heart in his chest. Veins of ice shoot out and hold him perfectly still. That question, with that intonation, is precisely what Ivan asks him when he wants a Sith opinion rather than what Fox really thinks. “What?”

“Your Sith, what does he think?”

_ Of course she doesn't know I'm him. That's a perfectly reasonable question.  _ Fox closes his mouth and answers once his heart rate returns to normal. “That the Jedi possesses an ability the Council would rather people not know about.”

“So, any ability, really,” Carina says.

He forces a chuckle out, but there’s nothing funny about the unknown Jedi master on  _ his _ world. “I’m expecting some kind of Death Touch. Watch your six.”

“I always do, Fox.”

 


	4. If It Means A Lot To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fox is frighteningly competent, but he needs his support staff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [If It Means A Lot To You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=21YJcWdiNfI) \- A Day To Remember

“I’m impressed you can use that Echani sword style so well. I had one try to teach me a few forms, but I just can’t push my body like that,” Carina says. They’re sitting on the temporary railing surrounding the Battle Circle. 

_ Kriff. Right, because it’s physically impossible for humans.  _ Fox rubs the back of his neck and quirks an eyebrow at her. “It’s fairly taxing; my use of it is situational, at best.”

“It’s still impressive. I’m not  _ surprised _ , mind; I like to think I’m rather well acquainted with how well you can use your body.” She elbows him and laughs when he shakes his head at her. “Come on. Let’s have a spar. Give ‘em a show.”

Fox answers her grin and hops off of the railing. But before he can step forward, he feels a  _ shift _ in the Force. He freezes and sends his senses out.  _ They’re coming to attack the camp _ ? He puts a hand over his ear and feigns listening to a message in comms before sticking two fingers in his mouth and whistling. It’s not naturally loud enough to overpower the loud carousing, but the risk in augmenting the sound with the Force is worth it. 

Once he sees that enough of the warriors are looking at him, he shouts in  _ mando’a _ . “ _ The Jedi are approaching the camp. Both from D’narr, both from Mershurok: North-by-Northwest. D’narr, deafen your helmets to externals. Rely only on direct comms. _ ” He looks around the at-attention warriors and points to the kid from Tiyaar. “ _ You, Tiyaar, with me. The rest of you, continue like this.  _ Think _ as loudly as you can to distract the Jedi _ .” He spares just a moment to meet Carina’s eyes before sprinting off to the east.

“I hate you, Imp. Why me?” The kid from Tiyaar asks, even as they run through the trees.

Fox has most of his attention on the Jedi, hopefully the master, they intend to meet, but he has enough to answer. “Because you have strong Force resistance.”

“How do  _ you _ -”

“There aren’t a lot of ways for slaves to escape, now shut up,” Fox interrupts. He gives a few sharp, Mandalorian hand-signals before scaling up into one of the trees. 

Following his instructions, the Mandalorian draws his vibrosword and steps carefully through the loam towards the Jedi.

The Jedi’s hood is pulled low over his face as he enters the clearing where Tiyaar is waiting. He chuckles and draws his lightsaber, lighting the blue blade with a casual touch of Force. “You’re no scout. I see Sa’alle has underestimated me again.”

_ Again _ ? Fox mouths to himself. His mind shuffles through all of his encounters with Jedi, but this nautolan is completely unfamiliar. He waits until the Jedi’s saber is locked against the Mandalorian’s vibrosword before jumping down and aiming a slash at his back.

The Jedi knocks the Mandalorian away with a sharp wave of Force energy that slaps him into a tree with a loud crack and heavy shuddering of boughs. The Mandalorian takes a pained gasp before sliding to the ground, not that the Jedi is watching as he swings his saber around to block Fox’s blade.

Fox aims a kick at the Jedi’s torso, but the Master dodges with a Force leap backwards.  _ I’ve never met him and Sybil would have burned down half the estate if one got away from her _ .

The Jedi laughs. “You know, the resemblance between you and Linora is striking. With that hair of hers, are you quite certain Sybil isn’t a bastard?”

“Nicabre,” Fox snarls. He tosses aside his vibrosword and pulls the hilt of his lightsaber out of the secret compartment in his armor. He lights the blood-red blade and gives up all pretense of being an Imperial soldier as he uses the Force to leap at the Jedi that killed his older sister.

Master Nicabre laughs and continues to dodge Fox’s strikes. “That’s right. Vengeance. Let the Dark Side consume you, little Sith.”

Fox hears Tiyaar’s betrayed sputtering, but ignores it in favor of the Jedi.  _ He’s no battlemaster. He’s baiting me while he prepares his sorcery. _ While he scours his memory for every detail he has from his sister’s murder, Fox slips into his natural style of combat with its mish-mash of forms. He’s pushing the Jedi back, but since it’s just a stalling tactic, Fox takes no pleasure in gaining ground. “You know quite a bit of my family, to recognize my face.”

“I felt it a prudent course of action, after Sybil destroyed my last padawan.”

Power claws at the inside of Fox’s skin and whispers the delightful horrors he can inflict on the Jedi with a flick of his wrist, but Fox instead channels it into his voice. “You come here and threaten my  _ home _ over a petty squabble with that tramp? Just how much does she intend to take from me?”

Fear splashes on the Nautolan’s face as the words hit him and he drops all pretense of martial combat. He turns to Tiyaar and releases his spell, but whatever it is doesn’t manifest fast enough to save him from Fox’s blade cutting him clean in half.

Dark Force continues to writhe and churn under Fox’s skin as he deactivates his saber and returns the hilt to its hiding place. His vibrosword snaps from the ground into his open palm, but his attention is locked on the Mandalorian. 

The kid is visibly fighting with himself as he walks towards Fox with jerky motions. He raises his vibrosword and makes an aborted thrust at the Sith as he wrestles control back for a moment.

With gritted teeth and dimmed vision, Fox pushes past the cortosis-weave in the helmet and then the kid’s own mental resistances.  _ Of course his kriffing strength of will is making this harder to break. And these memories have to go. He can’t know that Olkin II is worth so much to me _ .

He’s so focused that he doesn’t notice Carina approach until she speaks.

“Fox? Tiyaar?”

Though his attention is locked on breaking Nicabre’s hold on the kid’s mind, Fox turns his body as quickly as he can to the other Mandalorians to assure them that everything’s under control. However, before he can spare enough mental energy to speak the words, he feels a vibroblade pierce straight through his armor.  _ Oops. Ivan’s going to yell at me. ‘You need to stop assuming almost complete is good enough!’ _ As the facsimile of his captain’s voice fades in his mind, Fox breaks the dead Jedi’s control on the kid and passes out.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is completely unimportant to the story, _but_...
> 
> Anyone who played SWTOR is familiar with how _everyone_ had red hair. All of them. Why? Because the color they used for red hair is really fucking nice. It's also, however, _not_ the color red hair actually is in humans.
> 
> The top two are the natural-ish red hair colors and the bottom one is the color everyone had. My pet theory is that the above two are natural human hair colors (and recessive, as red hair is) and the bottom one is the gene for red hair that comes from racial Sith. According to HK-47, 98% of Imperials have racial Sith blood/DNA, so it would make sense for there to be some shared genes in the general "human" population. And if you assume that red is dominant, tada, explained!
> 
> Fox's hair color is slightly darker than the top left image and Sybil's is the one on the bottom.


	5. Great White Coma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unlike most Sith, Fox handles the repercussions of his actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Great White Coma](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pl2wbCF0Zlk) \- The Sunstreak

“Well that was his power, wasn’t it? Making people think and do what he wanted?” Fox fills his lungs and then shakes his head, but the pain that jolts out from his healing wounds still makes him wince. He reflexively clutches his chest. Though he’s not wearing a shirt, the unmoving mark on his arm is hidden by a thin, cloth covering that feels wholly inadequate with Carina’s eyes searing into his skin through the one-way mirror behind him.

The plan had been to be back in his hospital bed _before_ the Hound finished her meeting with Mardh and ‘Faximil.’ _I shouldn’t have expected a meeting with a Mandalorian_ alor _to take long_.

Oblivious to Fox’s machinations, the padawan gives a defeated sob before slumping onto the table and burying his face in his arms. The sobs shake his entire body and nearly overpower his babbled apologies.

_At least I did something right on this operation_ , Fox thinks. Gingerly, he pushes back his chair and stands. With slow, measured steps, Fox leaves the room. He’s expecting Carina to pull him into a hug, but she only pulls his arm over her shoulders to take some of his weight.

“You shouldn’t be pushing yourself like this,” she says.

The cold metal of her armor bites into Fox’s bare skin, but he can’t bring himself to care. He flashes her a smile and her expression fills another crevice in his chest. “Hey you.” He turns to Mardh and the policeman. “He’ll spill his guts. Once he does, throw him in with the rest of the prisoners, leave the cuffs off, but have his guards discuss using them in earshot.”

“Of cou-rse…” The policeman tries to say. He glances at Mardh, who’d elbowed him, but when he looks back at Fox understanding flits across his face. “It will be done.”

“Hound, if you could ensure he makes it back to his medical bed, I would appreciate it,” Mardh says.

“Surely someone else could have done that,” Carina lectures as she leads Fox back.

“It took fifteen minutes, at most.”

Carina half-lifts him back into his bed and fusses with his blanket and pillows. “And how long did it set back your recovery?”

“This is the best medical facility in the galaxy. I’ll be fine.” He takes one of her hands and holds it firmly. Her concern makes him want to tell her the truth. Makes him want to rip the cloth off his arm and see hers bared. With effort, he holds back the truth and instead asks, “How’s the Tiyaar kid? You didn’t beat him up, did you?”

Carina shakes her head and pulls his hand close to her chest. “Mardh had him in a holding facility while he investigated the ‘incident.’ But I don’t want to talk about Tiyaar. I want to talk about Faximil.”

The warmth in Fox’s chest turns to jagged ice at her words. _Could she somehow tell it was Eklund in my robes_? “What?”

“Where _was_ he? That _jetii_ took control of Tiyaar and nearly killed _you_ ! I know he saved the people here, but _you_ -”

Relief rushes through him and Fox relaxes onto the pillows. “Carina-”

The Hound continues as if he hadn’t interrupted her rant. “And you speak _mando’a_ , surely-”

“ _Carina_ , enough.” Fox squeezes her hand and presses the back of his own against her painted breastplate. “Lord Faximil _did_ intervene. Nicabre’s power would have spread through all of the forces, Mandalorian and Imperial both, if Faximil hadn’t stopped it. I know mental powers just look like standing around staring at someone, but I’m sure he didn’t have the opportunity to also prevent my stabbing.”

“I just care about you, Fox. We work well together and… everything else.” Her hesitation, the way she stumbles over the words - they make it clear that’s not what she wants to say. Not what she really feels. The way his heart aches in his chest is surely echoed in her own. Pain from some kind of deep longing sits on her face. “Can you blame me for worrying?”

“I don’t blame you.” He pulls her hand to his face and rubs the back against his cheek. All Fox wants is to make her happy and leave her that way. It’s already too late, far too late, to keep her from mourning him when his death comes. The least he can do is leave the faint hope intact that some soulmate is waiting for her. “And I care about you, too. I’ll recover and see you soon.”

\---

Fox grimaces, though whether it’s in pain or at his paperwork, even he’s not sure. With resigned movements, he swipes through the files on his datapad trying to figure out which one is the most urgent.

“I took the liberty of triaging everything while you were in the hospital. Assume each item there is of critical importance,” Ivan says. If Fox isn’t wrong, and he rarely is, his captain is smirking smugly behind his back.

“There are three hundred files here.”

“You ordered the sanitization of every Force object in the colony. As per _your own orders_ , each object has to authorized by you personally.”

“Have you drafted a statement rescinding that order?”

“Of course, my lord.” Ivan reaches over Fox’s shoulder and presses a few places on the datapad to pull up the statement in question.

Without hesitation or even reading it, Fox grants his sanction. He sighs and idly rubs the mostly-healed wound in his chest. “What else is on the agenda?”

“Eklund has narrowed the courier companies down to three. He’s going to do a round of in-person interviews and then you’ll have to do your own and make your decision. Then there’s authorizing Lord Aucht to take over your holdings at the appropriate time. Then you have two moons to scout and a rather long list of relics you want to investigate.”

“And Sybil’s rivals I have to kill so that they don’t try to claim my holdings.” Fox lets the datapad fall onto his desk and rubs his temples. He has a year, at most, to handle everything and it feels like no time at all with the towering list of obligations and even taller list of lives depending on him fulfilling them. It’s almost enough to make him forget about the mark on his arm and the match out there in some Mandalorian camp. “Do we have any hope of completing all of this?”

“It’s, strictly speaking, possible. Eklund and I have made a few tentative schedules you can look over,” Ivan says, though something in his voice hints that there’s more he’s not saying.

Fox turns his head and examines his captain with his eyes and the Force. _Yes, he’s definitely holding something back. And still insufferably smug_. “Alright, out with it. What cleverness do you have this time?”

“If we put hiring a Mandalorian clan on the table, we gain a significant margin for error.”

“Fine. Arrange a meeting with the _alor_ of D’narr.”

Ivan frowns and puts his hand on Fox’s shoulder. “Will you let Sybil take even this small happiness from you?”

“Yes. The risk-”

Ivan interrupts him. “Will you let her take this small happiness from _Carina_? She’s Mandalorian. She could die tomorrow.”

“You hate this soulmate kark.”

“You’re my friend; I want you to be happy. And I already scheduled a meeting with Meshurok’s leader.”

  



	6. The Calendar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It doesn't matter how many times or how many people tell Fox it doesn't matter; he's dying and that _matters_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Calendar](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qkQ3KcsHgOA) \- Panic! At The Disco

After Fox recovers, he goes to Ivan’s meeting and offers Clan Meshurok a direct contract, which they accept. He tells himself he would have contracted D’narr if not for his captain’s interference, even if they’re competent, valuable warriors, that’s not why he wants  _ them _ in particular. They protect his archaeologists who are seeking Sith relics, the scouts he’s ordered to explore and map uninhabited worlds. Sometimes he orders strikes on Hutt slaving rings to free the victims--their combat prowess is invaluable there. 

But there’s another reason, one he realizes deep down. No normal Imperial liaison would spend as much time with the clan as Fox does. For them, it’s a job--they coordinate the details, communicate as go-between, hand over the credits. For him, it’s something more. Instead of staying at the command tent during ops, he fights at their side. At night, when the job’s done, he doesn’t return to the Imperial base. He sits in the camp, talking with them, drinking with them… practically living with them. 

Maybe in another life… one where he wasn’t born to the cursed bloodline he was… this could be permanent. It’s a fantasy, one that’s hard to shake in idle moments. As it is, it’s just a way to live his last few months with some measure of peace.

Carina’s at the center of it, this life he wants but can only play at for a short time. He doesn’t need the Force to tell him what she’s leaving unsaid. She wonders if, despite being an outsider, an Imperial vassal to a Sith, she might make a life with him. She has no idea what else stands in the way--why that’s the least of  _ his  _ concerns. If it was only that, they’d be together now.

When the urge to tell her the full truth gets to be too much, Fox leaves ‘on missions for Faximil.’ The work does need to be done, and Mardh is perfectly competent to continue the liaison, but it’s a convenient excuse. Maybe if he spends time away, her feelings will fade. But he can’t stay away too long before he needs to return.

One thing is certain--he’ll never show her his mark, no matter how much he wants to. There’s no changing his fate. It would be cruel to give her a few months that can only end in tragedy. If she thinks her mate is still out there, maybe she’ll find something else in the pursuit after his death. Not her true soulmate… but someone to make her happy enough. 

One day, when he’s followed behind Eklund and some of the snipers into Meshurok’s camp, Fox is pulled aside by Ty’lk, Carina’s righthand. 

“Is it that  _ jetii _ mark on her arm that’s stopping you?”

Fox blinks at the mirialan and then says, slowly, “I feel as if I’ve stumbled into this conversation midway through.”

“The soulmark. You Imperials get weird ideas about how important it is. To us? It’s nothing. For her? Less than nothing. She’s not going to leave you for some  _ jetii _ with a creepy mask on his arm.”

Fox can’t help the flinch that comes from confirmation that Carina’s his soulmate. 

Fortunately, Ty’lk takes it completely the wrong way. “She loves you, Fox. That’s all that matters for us. Well, and you’re a warrior, but, regardless.”

The weight of his deception is crushing, but Fox manages to pull himself together enough to respond. “That’s not it. I hadn’t even seen it.”

“Oops.”

“That doesn’t matter to me.  It’s… There’s something else. A problem with me.”

“You already married?”

“No.” Fox hopes his expression shows just how offended he is by the question.

“You  _ dar’manda _ ?”

“No.”

“Then whatever it is doesn’t matter. I know you. You’re  _ mando’ad _ , no matter what armor you wear.” Ty’lk puts his hand on Fox’s shoulder. “Let it go,  _ vod _ .”

“I wish I could.”

\---

The trandoshan attack leaves Fox’s sleep light and troubled, despite his position curled around Carina. He finally wakes when she’s thinking so fiercely that he can nearly hear her thoughts. He hugs her lightly and then pulls back a bit. “Something wrong? They won’t come back tonight.” 

“It’s nothing. Go back to sleep,  _ cyare _ .” She says and for the first time there’s no hesitation before she says the endearment.

“I’m already awake. You’re thinking very loudly, you may as well tell me.” He shifts up in her bed and presses his forehead to hers. With a gentle touch, he strokes her cheek.

Carina’s eyes are bright, even the in the faint light diffusing into her tent. “This isn’t a roundabout way to ask you to join the clan, but have you considered having children of your own?”

“Oh  _ love _ .” In his chest, his heart clenches until it’s painful and then further still. He squeezes his eyes closed to hold back his tears.  _ This… How can she ask this of me? I just- I want that so much, Carina. _ “It- I- I’m dying. It’s part of the reason I can’t leave the Empire.”

Her hands fist in his shirt. “No.” 

“I need to stay, but even with… I have eight months. Ten, if I’m lucky.”

“ _ No _ .” Carina presses her face into his chest and pulls on his shirt so tightly that it’s painful. “Fox, there has to be  _ some _ way-”

“There was,” Fox says and he can hear the helplessness in his own voice. He holds her close. “I should have died five years ago. Every day is a gift. I never dreamed I’d meet you. Let alone that we would have this together. I’m sorry.”

Carina shakes in his arms and then starts crying with silent sobs. Her pain is raw and palpable in the Force. All Fox can do is hold her and whisper desperate apologies. He’d thought himself resigned to his death. Thought he’d never cry over it again, though this time he’s crying for her. For Carina’s pain and loss. For the life they could have had together. For the lies he’s resigned himself to living. “I’m sorry, belovéd. I’m so sorry.” 


	7. If I'm Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello Sunshine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [If I'm Lucky (Acoustic)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lgu3KGY_4iI) \- State Champs
> 
> I really wonder if the people reading listen to these songs or simply learned from the first round that my taste in music doesn't suit them, LOL.

In the distance, Fox can just make out the farmers tending their fields. Olkin II has a quiet, pervasive peace that Fox needs. Against all sense and even his own better judgement, Fox has spent the last two weeks investigating whether or not the blood curse that binds him to Sybil would be passed on to a child of his. No child would be without countless fathers in the clans and Carina doesn’t have to put voice to the request for Fox’s heart to hear it.  _ Ten months is just long enough to _ -

“My lord?” Ivan asks, interrupting the thought.

Fox turns his head slightly to acknowledge his captain, but doesn’t take his eyes from the window. “Yes?”

“The Hound just landed on world. She’s requesting a meeting with you.”

Fox turns his head back and frowns at the glass. “She knows I’m busy. Wait,  _ what _ ? Why would she do that? She hasn’t called me, has she?”

Ivan clears his throat and steps up to Fox’s shoulder. “She’s requesting a meeting with Lord Faximil. She says it’s urgent.”

Without looking, Fox takes the grotesque Sa’alle mask Ivan offers him. He carefully presses it over his face and pulls up his hood. “Have her brought in, then.”

He doesn’t move from his spot as he waits, even though tension thrums through his blood like a frightened school of fish. Fox doesn’t turn when the door opens and Carina enters.

“Hound,” Ivan says.

“Captain,” Carina returns. She walks into the room with heavy footsteps and stops next to Faximil’s desk, not behind it. Her next words are pointed. “I’m afraid this is private business.”

“Lord Faximil does not meet with  _ anyone _ privately, Hound.”

“He’s going to make an exception this time.” Carina’s voice is hard and edged with something. Not sadness. No, something sharp and nearly hysterical. Anger seems close, though still not correct.

“Your clan’s continued service to His Lordship is much appreciated, but what you’re asking is not a part of your contract,” Ivan says, his tone now cold.

With a swirl a robes, Fox turns and examines his soulmate through the mask. 

She looks as determined as she sounds, with her severe frown and gaze sharp enough to cut metal. She’s unbothered by Ivan’s refusal. When she notices him looking, she turns her gaze onto Fox. “I will wait here until he changes his mind.”

Certain that the battle of wills could last for eternity, Fox signals for Ivan to leave them. He keeps his eyes on Carina, but remains still and silent. Though it’s difficult, he can wrap an illusion around his voice well-enough to fool even his lover’s Force resistance. 

Carina doesn’t break the silence between them until Ivan has shut the door behind him. “I don’t want anyone eavesdropping, either.”

Beneath the mask, Fox frowns.  _ She can’t have figured out the truth. She wouldn’t hesitate to speak in front of Ivan when he’s undoubtedly been assisting me with the deception, so what is it? _

Despite his confusion, Fox lifts his right hand and swirls it in a rough gesture that makes a wave of purple Force energy splash out from his fingers and color the walls before disappearing. He nods to her.

“Good.” She takes a breath and her face somehow hardens even further. “How many sacrifices will it take to save Fox?”

The question hangs in the air: a macabre, haunting thing that kept him awake for countless nights.  _ Oh my love, what have I done to you _ ? “I do not know what it is you are asking.”

“That’s how your Force kark works, isn’t it? You kill enough people and anything’s possible. The emperor’s a thousand years old. You can make Fox live another fifty.” There’s no doubt or hesitation in her words, just the clear assumption that she expects him to do as she asks. “So how many? Hutt space is a pit. I can find as many slavers and child rapists as you need.”

_ I’m so sorry _ . “I have done all that I am willing to.”

Fire sparks in Carina’s green eyes and she lunges at him. He’s too surprised to react, his Force senses not having ever considered her a threat, but it doesn’t matter because she’s not attacking him. She’s ripping the fabric off of his right arm. When his soul mark is bare, when the proof of their bond is as blazingly bright as the whiteness of the mask on his skin, she grabs his arm tight enough to bruise. “ _ This _ means you  _ have _ to make me happy. Now give me the number.”

_ Are your feelings really so deep _ ? Because Fox can follow her logic. She loves her ‘Fox’ above all else, but her mark signals a Forcer. She believes that she’s bound to ‘Faximil’ simply so he can save the man she loves.  _ I’m so sorry _ . “You will leave now, Meshurok.”

“Say it to my face, Sith. Look into my eyes and tell your soulmate that you won’t save the one she loves.”

Regret wars with admiration of her courage and the crippling depth of her feelings for him, but Fox isn’t conflicted on how he will respond. He doesn’t have a choice. Just as he couldn’t have pushed away her initial advances, he can’t deny giving her what he wants her to have. He raises his left hand and rips his mask off, tossing it carelessly onto the wood paneling where the clack of molded ceramic against wood is the only sound.

Into the terrible silence, Fox says, “I have done everything I can. Should I attempt what you suggest, I would go mad long before I was saved.” With a jerk, he pulls his right arm out of her grasp. “It’s past time you returned to your clan.”

Carina grabs him by the front of his robes. “Are you out of your  _ mind _ ?”

“There’s nothing for you here.”

“I was ready to kill for you. That you’re Faximil changes nothing.”

“Are  _ you _ mad? It changes everything!”

“If there’s nothing you can do to extend your life, then you need to come  _ home _ .” Carina pulls on him until they’re pressed close together. “You belong with your family.”

Fox bares his teeth and speaks in  _ mando’a _ . “ _ I’m a Sith. _ ”

“You’re my  _ riduur _ .”

“I  _ lied _ to you! Why are you okay with this?”

“I’m  _ not _ and we  _ will _ have words, but I am  _ not _ going to give up everything we have because of one bad decision.”

His eyes are hot with unshed tears and he holds his jaw tight to hold back his emotions. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is.  _ Mhi solus tome _ .”

“Carina-”

She pulls him even closer, his robes yanked tight enough to cut into his skin. “ _ Mhi solus dar’tome _ . Any spouse of mine would walk death’s razer. You’re not sparing me any pain by pushing me away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so, no spoilers because it was in the trailer that I didn't see, but Star Wars has canon FOXES MADE OF CRYSTAL. COME ON GUYS, FOX WOULD TOTALLY HAVE 10.


	8. Just One Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fox may be Mandalorian at heart, but he's still learning their priorities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Just One Yesterday](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJqL-UHQuP8)

The rituals to prevent their child from being part of the Sa’alle family are unpleasant at best. Fox isn’t surprised that Carina agrees to - nay, demands - them. He tries to talk her out of it, but his heart isn’t in it. As much as his chest burns at the thought of having a child he can never really know and as much as it pains him to subject his belovéd to the rituals, the thought of Carina raising their child in the life he should have had pushes him forward.

She’s resting, still trying to recover from said rituals, even two weeks later, when the knock comes on their door. He raises an eyebrow and steps away from the window to open it. The accommodations aren’t nearly as nice as on Olkin II, but he’s not governor here, so he’s not bothered. When Fox opens the heavy door, it’s to see Goran Meshurok. Fox blinks. “Carina’s asleep. Shall I wake her?”

“No, let her rest. I wanted to talk to you, anyway.” Goran’s face is lined even more heavily than most men his age and the threat Lethalitus poses to the moon is no help. He steps inside and shuts the door behind him. The older man opens his mouth to speak, but hesitates. After a moment, he takes a seat on the uncomfortable couch with the broken spring, but still says nothing.

Fox gives him a nod before returning to the window. He can feel the old Mandalorian’s eyes on his back, fierce now that Fox isn’t looking. The landscape is dark and he can’t see much, but that’s never stopped him. There’s something peaceful about staring out into the night.

“Something changed. I’d ask her, but I know what she wanted, so she’d just tell me to ask you.”

Fox taps on the glass. “That’s true enough.”

“Well? You went from holding her at arm’s length to married and discussing a child.”

_ Ah, she didn’t tell him anything, then _ . “I’ll be dead in a year, if we’re lucky.”

“So she just had to convince you to stop being an idiot.”

Fox holds a breath in his lungs and decides to admit to everything. Each word feels like ripping off a section of skin that’s protected his lies for so long. “Are you aware of her soul mark?”

“That  _ kark  _ doesn’t matter to us.”

“But you’ve seen it?”

Goran takes his time answering, but finally says, “Even if you weren’t dying soon, she’d never leave you for some washed out  _ jetii _ . Soulmate or no.”

“ _ I _ am her soulmate,” Fox says. He lets the words hang in the air and imagines Goran’s face going through a flurry of emotions. The revelation is undoubtedly a heavy one: his treasured son-in-law is a Forcer, anathema to his people.

But Goran only lets out a loud sigh of relief. “Thank the ancestors. I wasn’t looking forward to her having a crisis if she ever met that two-credit  _ jetii _ trash.”

Confused, Fox turns and sees Goran now slouched and relaxed.  _ Does he not understand what that means _ ? He reiterates, “I’m a  _ Sith _ .”

“You’re  _ mando’ad _ .”

“Not you, too.”

“Where do you think she got it?”

\---

“ _ Riduur _ , please,” Carina says as she grabs his wrist. “You did it perfectly all four times. You don’t have to start again.”

Reluctantly, Fox pulls his gaze away from her helmet and meets her eyes. “I already told you, Jean won’t hesitate to kill everyone on our side so long as it gets the Jedi offworld.”

“Jean. His name is Jean?” Carina laughs and nearly knocks her etching tools off the table. “Big, scary Sith Lord Lethalitus is named  _ Jean _ ?”

Fox purses his lips, but absolutely does not pout. “His nan certainly didn’t call him Lethalitus. He was friends with Linora before they both became too corrupted to  _ have _ friends. Do you really think parents of Sith sit down and come up with those ridiculous monikers over the bassinet?”

Carina releases his wrist and rolls her eyes at him before turning back to the hunting hound she’s etching onto his breastplate. “Well, you’re ‘facsimile,’ aren’t you?”

“I wasn’t expected to live to adulthood; my mother never bothered to name me.” Fox sets her helmet down and watches the sealant dry with a critical eye. He can’t risk Carina’s life, not ever, but especially not now. “I was just the Sa’alle boy”

“So Faximil was the first name you had?”

“No. I met Octavian during my training and he started calling me Fox.”

“Good, since you’re always just going to be Fox to me,” Carina says. “This Octavian fellow, he’s Lord Aucht, right?”

“Correct. I’ll take you to meet him after this job,” Fox replies. With effort, he forces himself to stand and take a step away from the worktable. Fiddling with the seal any longer could jeopardize other parts. He needs to channel his anxiety into something more productive.

“Why don’t you go through our  _ vod _ and remind them that ‘Faximil’ is going to be wearing your armor for the duration.”

“They know from the first time i told them. I’m not going to insult them like that, belovéd.”

“Then go tell Father I’m pregnant. He’ll keep you busy.”

“You don’t want to be the one to tell him?”

“Absolutely not.”

\---

“Fox if you don’t stop hovering, I am going to stab you with this fork.” Carina waves it at him for emphasis before going back to her lunch. 

“He  _ choked _ you!”

“I’m  _ fine _ .”

“But-”

“The  _ baby _ is fine. It’s not even far enough along to  _ call _ a baby. You’re out of your mind.” She throws the fork on the tray and shoves it at him. “Go on and take this. If there are any crumbs in my bed, it’s going to come out of your hide.”

“It’s  _ my _ bed, to be fair.”

“Your things are my things are your things, for one. But ignoring that,  _ my _ duvet,  _ my _ bed.” She waves the corner of it at him. “It’s my favorite color and I’ll not have you staining it.”

“You’re ridiculous. I love you.”

“And you’re still in trouble if you make a mess in my bed.”


	9. Forget Me Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grief comes in waves and the first won't wait for the loss to come. Thank the Force Carina has her head on straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Forget Me Not](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9oRAS0HOGNQ) \- Marianas Trench

It’s the middle of the night when Fox suddenly wakes, uneasy slumber disturbed by… something. A vague tug at his consciousness that roused him. He smiles at Carina, sleeping soundly next to him with the manka’s share of her teal duvet piled around her. It takes him another few moments to realize what woke him, but when he grasps it, it takes his breath away. 

He knows Carina’s Force signature as intimately as his own. She’s his soulmate, after all. But something’s different in what he feels now. It’s hard to tell at first, but there’s a second signature nestled safely inside the first. Smaller, weaker, but undeniably  _ present _ . Their unborn child, though only so few months in development, is large enough to sense. 

He wipes away the tears that rise to his eyes. He’s happy for Carina and for their child, but the shadow of his imminent death sours it, as it does with everything about their life together. He can feel the child now--the child that he won’t be around to father. That Carina will raise in the clans alone after her husband succumbs to his Sith curse. 

It was the height of selfishness to agree to this union, let alone to a child. It would’ve been better to maintain the facade and let Carina forget all about him--No, better to avoid acting on his feelings in the first place.  He should have pushed her away before she thought to confront Faximil. Should have left it at a single, wonderful encounter. He can't even pretend he could have rejected her initial advance. 

But if he'd done any of those things, she could be with someone else by now, someone who might die in battle but at least has a fighting chance at life. By grasping at a temporary happiness--some comfort in the last months of his life--he’s sacrificed her happiness, along with their child’s. Selfish, irresponsible… but Fox knows he wouldn't,  _ couldn’t _ , change a thing. 

When Carina starts to stir, he ignores his first instinct to pretend all is well and tell her to go back to sleep and instead presses his tear-streaked face into her shoulder. Her arms wrap sleepily around him and Fox hugs her as tightly as he dares. “I’m so sorry, Carina.”

“It’s okay,  _ riduur _ . I forgive you.” She kisses the top of his head and smooths back his hair, but it just brings on a fresh wave of guilt and tears.

“You don’t  _ understand _ -”

“I do. And the baby forgives you, too. You’ll stay with us as long as you’re able. That’s all anyone can ask.” Carina’s words are a little slurred with sleep, but her tone is as confident as ever. “And Ivan told me about the holos you’re recording. That’s a wonderful idea.”

Fox clings to her, his perfect partner that he stumbled into despite years of avoiding all contact with Mandalorians. He doesn’t think about what would have happened if they’d met earlier because if he tried he wouldn’t be able to actually  _ be _ with her. Her and their child.  _ If I’m lucky, if Sybill just takes long enough to fix the curses- _ “I just want to hold her. Just once.  _ Please _ .”

“I know, Fox.” Carina keeps stroking his hair, even though she sounds half-asleep again.

Fear pierces Fox’s heart like some kind of primitive arrow and his entire body goes stiff. “But don’t- Don’t try to have her early. I know it’s  _ possible _ , but-”

“The baby will come when they’re ready and no sooner,” Carina says without hesitation and still sleepy, as if she’d  _ anticipated _ his worry.

“Did I already say that?”

“No.”

He tries to relax, but between the guilt and fear Fox can do nothing except cling to her for support. “What if the holos aren’t enough? What if she thinks-”

“Why’d you keep saying she?” Carina mumbles.

“Well-” Fox starts, but then realizes he has no answer. He moves one hand over her abdomen and  _ feels _ out with the Force, but the tiny wisp of a Force signature gives him no information about the baby’s gender or… anything really. She barely has the Life Force of a tree. Well, an  _ older _ tree, but-  _ I just thought it again. Oct did used to say I had some measure of Force Intuition. Or was he talking about himself? No, he doesn’t have it. His brother did _ …

His thoughts whirl and swirl through his memories, trying to remember if he has Force Intuition or if there’s been some sign that their child will be a girl. By the time he gives up the attempt as a waste, Carina’s snoring quietly into his hair.

The sudden affection that wells for her brings more stray tears to his eyes, but he says nothing else. He simply dries his eyes on her soft nightshirt and settles back to sleep.

\---

“You didn’t like the other two, so what are you going to do if this one’s no good?” Carina asks through comms as they walk across the Nar Shaddaa Promenade. 

Fox glances at her and despite knowing she’s seven months along and being able to feel the little curl of Life Force under her heart he can’t see any change from when she wasn’t carrying their child.

“Fox, focus,” she says when he still hasn’t answered.

“Sorry, love. I don’t know. Oct will mind trick pilots on an individual basis until  _ he _ finds someone, if I can’t come up with a solution.” He tries to push his guilt back. He has so much over Carina and their child, he can’t bear the weight of failing to find a suitable pilot to take young Forcers and their families to Olkin II.

“We can do it,  _ cyare _ . There’re always a few young bucks that need a good transport mission to keep them out of trouble.”

Fox sighs. “Thank you, but I’m not going to risk putting all of my eggs in the same speeder. You can trust Oct.”

“When he won’t trust  _ me _ ?” Carina replies. Her voice is hard, and it’s warranted after Oct refused to even speak with her, let alone reveal his true face.

“I’m  _ sorry _ -”

“I don’t want an apology from  _ you _ . I don’t care what that tramp did to him. I’m the furthest thing possible from Sybil. If he doesn’t clean up his act in a hurry, I don’t know what I’ll do if Aky is Sensitive. You  _ told _ him not to challenge her.”

“Please give him time. He’s lost a great deal,” Fox pleads.

“We’ll see,” is all Carina says and Fox can’t blame her. She’s going to lose plenty to Sybil soon enough.

His heart aches for his best friend, now the involuntary father of Fox’s youngest niece, but with everything seeming to happen at once, he doesn’t know what to do. He briefly touches Carina’s shoulder before opening the door to the private suite in the Violet Room where he’d scheduled to meet the pilot from Klaver’s.

Fox’s angry caucus of thoughts stutter into silence when he sees the pilot for the first time. He blinks before double-checking the seal on the door behind him and then removing his helmet. “Is this some kind of joke? And what the kriff did you do to your eye?”

Oct stares at him from his relaxed slump on the chaise. His visible eye blinks before narrowing. When he speaks, his accent is  _ nothing _ like his usual, posh, Imperial one. “Wow, I mean, I know you guys are basically Imps, but that was  _ rude _ .”

Fox scoffs. “I didn’t think you’d be spiteful enough to pull this sort of…  _ prank _ . Now I have to be the prat that tattles to Na’li’a that you’re out of hand just because I wanted you to meet my wife.”

“What the  _ fuck _ is going on?” Carina asks.

“What she said,” Oct says, half-risen out of his seat, his body screaming barely restrained aggression.

“That’s more than enough, Octavian,” Fox says.

In a flash, the pilot is on his feet and gripping Fox’s arms tightly enough that his armor is beeping with quiet warnings. “You know  _ Octavian _ ?”

“You… Sebastian?”

“Where. Is. He?” The pilot demands, Force crackling around him in a familiar fashion.

“But you’re dead!” Fox says.

“Obviously not,” Carina says. With gentle, but firm motions she pulls Sebastian off of Fox. She pushes him back down onto the chaise and puts the smoking, purple drink back in his hand. “Now, are you Sebastian or not?”

“I am,” the pilot says, looking overwhelmed. He chugs the rest of his drink and blindly feels around his feet until a bottle materializes from under the chaise.

“Right. Now, Fox, sit. Good, now call Oct because clearly we’re not going to get our business done until this is dealt with.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Similar to my note in Plagued Web, I usually leave character details to the fic itself. First of all, _I_ am not making any assertions about bullshit "life begins at conception." Second, _neither is Fox_. As I hope was apparent from the text, the life to which Fox was mentally referring is life in as much as an amoeba is alive. Trees, algae, earthworms: all alive.
> 
> He even explicitly states that he wants to _hold_ their child with an implied "because she's not really our child until that point." He has extremely visceral feelings regarding this collection of distinct, though completely dependent cells inside of his wife for reasons that I hope are obvious at this point. However, even given that, he's a staunch supporter/believer in bodily autonomy. 
> 
> Any in-story discussion of abortion seems really out of place to me because the characters we care about are all in agreement that bodily autonomy is implied, full stop. There wouldn't _be_ discussion aside from the Castel-Averyss "Why are you asking me to make decisions about someone else's body?" conversation.
> 
> My stories aren't here to be political and if you think basic human rights is a political issue, fuck right off and I hope you lose any good feelings my writing ever gave you.


	10. I Will Deliver You To The Fireflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today, of all days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I Will Deliver You To The Fireflies](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SMoSP9UOuJE) \- The Gospel Youth. If you like this song and Wildfire (The Fox and the Hound Chapter 8), please check out and patronize this band.

It’s a miracle to Fox that he’s still alive for this moment. He’s braced himself for the absolute worst, expiring at random without the chance to say goodbye, never seeing the birth of his and Carina’s child. He knows this is still fleeting, that the end will come at any time--and sooner rather than later--but at least he’ll have this at the end.

Aquila. His daughter’s name is Aquila. Fox smiles down at her as he holds her in his arms. His daugher, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He won’t be there to see her grow up, won’t get those moments when he realizes she has his eyes, Carina’s nose, other features from other members of her family. He can feel the way her Force is a combination of his and Carina’s, but it’s not quite the same.

Even though he was born with this curse--being a Sith, being from this cursed family--Fox looks at his daughter and knows there’s one pure thing he’s done. Nothing will take that away. 

“You won’t even remember me,” he tells Aquila as she sleeps peacefully. It’s a rare moment of Fox outside of his armor, a constant part of life since he gave in and married Carina. But he wasn’t going to hold Aquila for the first time while covered in cold metal. “Some holos that they’ll say are your father, but will feel like a stranger to you. It doesn’t matter. You’ll have a whole clan full of brothers and sisters, and the best mother in the galaxy. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Maybe, if he tells her often enough,  _ he’ll  _ start to believe it.

\---

On his last day with his family, Fox transitions immediately from asleep to fully awake. His mind is frighteningly clear: he knows exactly what he has to do and where he must go. He pulls Aquila out of her crib, pressed as it is next to their bed, and holds her against his chest. He wraps her up in the protective web of his Force and tries not to let it bother him that he can already tell she’s Sensitive.

He brushes some of Carina’s dark hair out of her face and savors the ache in his chest from the overwhelming love he has for her. With hesitant fingers, he pulls at the cloth brace covering her soulmark. He’s never seen it, never wanted to, but suddenly it feels like something he can’t bear to leave undone. His breath catches in his chest sharply enough that Aquila stirs and shifts against him.

Instead of the melancholy tragedy mask in front of the Mandalorian sigil, Carina’s arm carries only a twisted and discolored scar.

“Fox?” Carina asks before she’s fully awake. Once she sees his expression, however, her eyes clear and her mouth turns down into a grim line. “Oh, I see. It’s today.”

“You burned it off?”

“What?” She shakes her head and then looks down at his hand. “Oh. That. Yes.”

Fox puts their daughter in Carina’s arms and wraps his around her. He hides his face in her neck, as if he can hide from his destiny. “When?  _ Why _ ?”

“It never moved much. Just some days the mask would be smiling and some… Well, you know. I always hated it. It felt like it was mocking me. Like the Force knew better than I did what I wanted. When you almost died on Olkin II… I’d had enough.”

“I hope she never has to deal with one,” Fox says, running his seemingly gigantic hand over Aquila’s thin mop of black hair. He wonders if it’ll stay dark. Her eyes already carry a hint of Carina’s green in the depths of baby-blue. “Though, now that I think about it, I’m not sure if I’m more surprised or less that you were completely bluffing when you barged into ‘Faximil’s’ office.”

“I wasn’t bluffing. I was right. Faximil’s mark did match mi-  _ Oh _ . Oops. I suppose I hadn’t thought that through. I was a bit focused on more important things.”

Fox chuckles and marvels that his eyes are still dry. “I never imagined I’d be able to laugh on today, of all days.”

“I did. You’d never let my last memories of you be tears.”

He kisses her cheek and pulls away. “I suppose we should get up.”

Fox and Carina pass Aquila back and forth as they dress, her in full  _ beskar _ and him in Sith combat robes. Their infant wakes, but doesn’t seem to mind that she’s not going to be out of contact with one or both of her parents for the day. She lets out only a few sleepy gurgles. Together, they buff and polish Fox’s real armor before carefully setting each piece on a stand.

“I’m going to be terribly disappointed if she gets rid of my hound,” Fox says, tracing his fingers over the adorable, fluffy, cartoon hound that Carina had grudgingly etched for him.

“No you won’t be. You’ll be too busy being proud that she earned proper  _ beskar _ .”

“Well, yes, but lead her on a bit. I spent weeks talking you into that.”

“And it’ll be there for years, yet,  _ riduur _ . I imagine she’ll want a nice, fierce eagle when she earns it.” Carina grins down at her daughter before kissing the girl’s forehead. “Won’t you?”

“I’m sure she will. She and Kivia will be right terrors when they’re older.”

“Is it bad that I’m relieved Ty’lk’s  _ ad _ is the first Forcer in the clan?”

“No. You and I both know there are a few old holdouts you’re going to have to shuffle off to D’narr or somewhere when the time comes.” Fox puts his hand on her shoulder and gives her a small smile. 

Carina’s smile in return in fierce. “ _Buir_ ’s been warning them for years that things are going to change when he puts me in charge. It’s their own fault if they didn’t believe him. Anyone who thinks I’m sending _anyone’s_ _ad_ off for some random chance of birth is insane and not worthy of the name _mando’ad_.”

“In another galaxy, you’d be the best Mandalore in history.”

“Don’t count me out just yet,  _ riduur _ . A lot can happen in a war as nasty as this one.”

For the second time on such a terrible day, Fox laughs. He laughs and hugs his wife and kisses both of the most important people in the galaxy. “I can’t wait to see it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love these two too much. One more chapter to go, but believe me, the wait is worth it. I think Chapter 11 is my favorite single chapter in Legacies.
> 
> If you enjoy my content or otherwise think I'm a cool person, feel free to check me out/hit me up on tumblr [@TK-DuVeraun](https://tk-duveraun.tumblr.com/).


	11. Until The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dark Side is more than just hate and fear, jealousy and rage. The Dark Side is all of the strong emotions that beat in time with your heart and pour out of your soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Until The End](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UjXAZ8B7y3A) \- Quietdrive.

The towering Sa’alle estate isn’t in the jungle or on the edges of Kaas City. Fox’s ancestors had been rich and powerful and showed it off with lavish parties on their sprawling estate near the very heart of the capital. Over the years, extensive curses and wards soaked into the very walls and foundation stones, making even the most ambitious of Sith hesitate before trying to appropriate some of the Sa’alle holdings, ideal as their location is.

But no matter how deep or how malicious the wards, they ignore Fox as he passes them by. Three hundred years the Family may have been matriarchal and the marks might not be on his face, but by the older traditions, the ones that carved the stones with the blood of thousands of slaves, he, the eldest remaining member of the blood, is the Head of the Family, so he enters his ancestral home unchallenged.

The ambient Force in the air thrums in time with his heartbeat and creates tension even Force blinds can feel. The slaves that tend to the extensive gardens cower or sprint away in fear as he approaches. Though he’s ‘home,’ he wears the illusion of blood-red hair and sharp red lines on his face. No one who served the Family before Sybil came to power is still alive to recognize him with his true face.

Something about being on the grounds makes Fox feel half-feral, grinning maniacally, showing his teeth like a predator, even as he walks to his own death. The front doors slam open as he approaches, a few splinters drifting to the floor, unaffected by the Force-wind that snaps at Fox’s robes. His boots are loud on the expensive tiles, though not loud enough to drown out the terrified, fleeing footsteps of servants and slaves alike.

He can feel Sybil clearly in the Force, down in her lab, waiting for him. Fox lets her wait. He stalks through the familiar halls until he comes to what he expects to be a nursery.

It’s not.

The four, little Force signatures, his nieces, are locked in cages, one in each corner of the room and barely big enough for the babies to turn around in, let alone anything else. They’re unnaturally silent as they stare at him with his own blue eyes. Two bear clear burns from Force lightning where the Family marks should be on their faces.

Fox leaves the room with the Force crackling in the air around him. His illusion is gone, consumed by his rage as he stalks down to Sybil’s lab. Tiles shatter under his feet and wooden wall panels crack and split as he stalks by. The stone and durasteel walls groan as he passes into the underground levels and lights sputter and flicker in his wake. The door he’s looking for crashes open at his approach.

Sybil is dressed in lurid red and silver robes. She leans against a short counter on which sits a fifth cage matching the ones holding her daughters. “Brother, I’m so disappointed.”

“Are you, now? I’m here, just as you wanted.”

Sybil pushes off of the counter and caresses the bars of the empty cage. “But you didn’t bring your daughter. I even made her such a lovely gift, see?”

Out of his conscious control, Fox’s Force lashes out and strikes Sybil in the face, but even as the slice appears between her eyes and across her nose, pain cuts through his own as the blood curses retaliate against his attack. However, the pain doesn’t even make him flinch. He simply reaches up and cauterizes the seeping wound with carefully controlled Force lightning from the tip of his index finger.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know?  _ You _ belong to me. Your  _ blood _ belongs to me. Even your best rituals only bought you five years, Faximil. Did you really expect to hide it? You may have made her with that mongrel whore of a Mandalorian, but I’m sure I can salvage some usable parts.”

Power bubbles and writhes under Fox’s skin until it surely looks like boiling plasteel under his robes. Every breath he exhales makes the moisture in the air steam with a high-pitched whistle. When he speaks, his voice seems echoed by a chorus. “Did it ever occur to you, Sybil, sister, that it was  _ you _ that lived only at  _ my _ sufferance?”

Sybil laughs, a cackle sharp enough to shatter glass. “You can’t come to me like a nerf to the slaughter and expect me to be  _ afraid _ of you.”

She turns her right hand palm up and a wicked, twisted amulet of carved horn flies across the room until she closes her fingers around it. In the center is a crystal designed to hold any excessive Life Force Sybil steals from him that she can’t immediately make use of. Fox knows because their mother made it with his blood to ensure it would capture his Force without losing any of its potency. Just one of countless measures to ensure that Sybil, that the Head of the Sa’alle Family, gets what she wants.

“You  _ know _ getting this angry is only going to make me more powerful, so I have to thank you, dear brother. And once I have your gift, I’ll slaughter your little pet clan and bring your girl back here. I’ve been wanting a test subject for my rituals. Carrying children is tiresome and I’ve already had to cull six of them.”

The power inside Fox stills, coalesces and sinks into him as his emotions settle. His voice is back to its normal cadence when he speaks and the spark of sincere sadness that cuts through it barely breaks the surface of calm. “I love you, Sybil. Even after everything you’ve done to me. Everything you’ve done to our people, to our  _ family _ . All this time, I’ve loved you and remembered the hope I felt when I held you as a baby.”

“ _ Must _ you plead for you life?”

“I  _ chose _ to come here because my love for you meant that it was better to die by your hand than kill you myself.”

Sybil snorts and looks down her nose at him. “Everything you do to me is returned on you two-fold.”

“I can only die once and you seem to be under the mistaken impression that it matters if I survive this.” Fox slashes his hand at his baby sister and Force power explodes from him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! I hope you enjoyed this little AU as much as I did. Fox is really one of my favorite characters. It's not often I can write him or Oct really going full tilt Sith Lord because it's not something they do often. Between it being situational and the risk of Sith Corruption, they both usually go through other channels to get their desired results.
> 
> Though, now that I think about it, Oct going full tilt really only happens in one of the unposted AUs I wrote. Let's see... Yes, the Sokolov twins are actually the Sokolova twins (girls), Vasili is never kidnapped by the Jedi, Sailens is a boy... Maybe I should rewrite it for the purposes of posting. -thinking face-


End file.
